


Wait 'Til I Sally In

by angelsdemonsducks



Series: rise up [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Reunions, aaron is a little shit, alex would like everybody to get along please, and eliza is wonderful, as usual, john is ready to fight, there are tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 14:13:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8893783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsdemonsducks/pseuds/angelsdemonsducks
Summary: The first time he sees him again, it is not at a rally, as he’d half-expected, or in a crowded bar, like the first time around, like he’d half-hoped.
No, John Lawson meets Alexander Hamilton for the second time in a quiet cafe a few blocks down from the hospital where he works.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Previously: Everybody is reincarnated (a normal thing in this universe). Washington is running for president, and Alex and Aaron are now both working with the campaign. Also, John and Eliza have met one another and have been in a committed relationship for years, both of them hoping to find Alexander again.
> 
> I’m really sorry this one took so long, guys. It took a long time before I was even remotely satisfied with it, and I ended up doing several full rewrites. And on that note, I also want to say that in the last one, you know how I said Mulligan would be in this one? Well, that ended up not happening, sorry. It just... really didn’t fit.

The first time he sees him again, it is not at a rally, as he’d half-expected, or in a crowded bar, like the first time around, like he’d half-hoped.

No, John Lawson meets Alexander Hamilton for the second time in a quiet cafe a few blocks down from the hospital where he works.

He doesn’t realize it’s him at first, doesn’t find anything out of the ordinary. If anything, he’s surprised that there is anyone besides himself coming in for coffee at six in the morning; this place is a little out of the way to begin with, and he is usually their first customer of the day, the reason they open so early at all. But there they are: two young men standing at the register, seemingly bickering over what kind of coffee to get.

“You can’t have four shots of espresso this early in the morning,” one is saying, his arms crossed, his fatigued body language screaming that this discussion is something he’s used to. Which… okay, but who starts the morning with _that_ much caffeine?

“I can and I will,” the other shoots back with a glare, and turns back to the barista, who looks as if she doesn’t quite know what to make of them. John can’t blame her; he’s not sure what to think either. “Four shots of espresso, please. Uh, quickly, if you don’t mind; we’re in a bit of a rush.”

“Should’ve gotten coffee before we left, then,” the first mutters. “Or, I don’t know, slept last night?”

“Sleep is for the weak,” the other sniffs. He takes his outrageously caffeinated drink, pays, and turns around, and the first thought that hits John at the sight of his face is that this man is extremely, unfairly attractive, almost enough so to make him go a bit weak at the knees. And here he is, standing in the doorway like a complete idiot just because he’s surprised to see other people in this public establishment. Great.

_Think of Liz, goddamnit Laurens. You have the luck to be dating the most amazing person in the world and here you are making eyes at a perfect stranger. Quit it._

The second thought that hits him, though, is that this perfect stranger actually seems rather familiar, and John is struck with the certainty that he knows him. The hair, the bearing, the stature; these are all things John is certain he has seen before. But it is the eyes that strike him the most, weary eyes, and yet passionate, fiery eyes, eyes that have seen the horrors the world is capable of and refuse to back down.

He has seen these eyes before.

He meets those eyes with his own, and for a moment, nothing happens. It is a normal meeting between two strangers, like exchanging glances with someone through a subway window, a fleeting moment before the train leaves and parts the two forever.

Then, the eyes widen, and the man freezes in place, his breath catching in his throat. The cup of coffee he ordered just a moment before falls from senseless fingers, the liquid spilling out across the brown tile floor. The other man tenses in alarm, his eyes-- eyes not nearly so striking and yet somehow familiar as well-- flickering back and forth between them, but John barely takes notice. There is only one person here who he feels is important right now.

“Laurens?” the man whispers, a question and a plea all at once, and he _knows._

“Ale _xander_ ,” he breathes, and moves forward. Alexander, because, yes, _yes_ , it is him, _finally_ , lets out a choked cry and throws himself forward, slamming into his chest and nearly knocking him to the ground, wrapping his arms around him and holding on tight.

“I thought I was never going to see you again,” he says, and buries his face into his shoulder. “God, John, you _died_ , don’t do that ever again, please?”

John winces. “I know,” he replies. “I’m sorry.” It is the only thing he can think of to say, though he knows that it can’t really make a difference. Because he did die, died in a way he could have avoided if he wanted to. The thing was, at that point, he _hadn’t_ wanted to, not really. Leaving Alexander behind was about the only thing he’d regretted about that decision.

But he shouldn’t think about that right now, because right now… god, he doesn’t think his mind has quite comprehended that this is happening. That Alexander is just, all of a sudden, here, holding him like he might disappear if he lets go. That the voice he is hearing is Alexander’s, that the scent he is breathing in is Alexander’s, that Alexander is here, that he’s real, that they’re alive and that against all odds, they’ve found each other again.

And that is the third thought that hits him, really hits him, slams him with the force of a sledgehammer. His arms fly up and embrace Alexander in return, squeezing him tightly. “You’re here,” he mutters into Alexander’s hair-- because he is even shorter than last time, and it’s adorable-- and Alexander sighs with content.

“I was scared I wouldn’t find you,” he says, his voice muffled by John’s shirt and… tears? There is a certain dampness spreading on the fabric, and John knows he’s right.

“I will always find you,” he whispers fiercely. And they stand like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, unwilling to let go of this new and familiar happiness they’ve found.

Until the other guy clears his throat, and they both jump, Alexander stepping back a bit. His face is indeed a bit tearstained, and John wants nothing more than to pull him back toward him again.

“We are having,” he states, his voice thick, “a moment.” He accompanies that with a pointed glare in the other man’s direction.

“Yes, I realize that,” is the reply, “and it’s a very nice moment, and I’m very happy for you, but we are going to be late.”

Alex frowns. “I don’t think he’ll mind,” he says. “But you can go on ahead, if you want. Tell him I’ll be there soon.”

The man winces. “Like hell,” he says, shaking his head and settling in one of the nearby chairs with a sigh, sipping at his coffee. “You’re the one explaining this. I want no part in it.”

And all at once, John realizes who this man is, and he sees red. “Burr?” he snaps, hands balling into fists. The man gives him a sloppy, unconcerned salute.

“How nice of you to remember me, Laurens,” he says, and John…

_What would Liz do? Do what Liz would do._

But that maxim, usually so helpful when he is tempted to punch people in the face, doesn't work all that well in this situation. Because this man, this man who is casually lounging on a chair and drinking coffee as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, this man killed her husband, so really, he can’t be sure that her advice would not be to beat him up.

“You,” he says, enunciating every syllable. “Motherfucker.”

Burr lifts an eyebrow and takes another sip of his beverage.

“Okay, no, no fighting, either of you,” Alex cuts in, stepping between the two of them, hands raised placatingly. John takes a moment to wonder at the irony: Alexander Hamilton, telling someone not to fight? Really? What kind of upside-down world has he stepped into? “You are both very, very important to me, so I would really appreciate it if you would get along, okay? John, I’ve forgiven him, we’ve forgiven each other, and we’re good now. Aaron, please don’t antagonize my…” He trails off, giving John a sidelong glance, as if he’s not quite sure what label to put on their relationship. “My Laurens,” he finishes, and John would be lying if he said it didn’t give him a thrill to hear that familiar term of endearment again.

Burr rolls his eyes. “I won’t if he won’t,” he agrees, and John glares.

“What the fuck is that supposed to-” he starts, but at Alexander’s pleading look, he cuts himself off, frustrated. He has never been able to resist those eyes. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but if he tries anything, I’ll-”

“He won’t. Nobody will. Nobody is going to try anything, alright?” Alex states, crossing his arms. He seems like he is trying to look intimidating, but considering his short stature and pouting expression, it isn’t quite working. “Aaron, seriously, you can go on ahead and tell Washington what’s going on. I’ve got a feeling I might be a while.” At that, he shoots John a look that has him gulping, and not in an unpleasant way.

Burr shrugs. “Fine,” he says. “If he crucifies me, I’m blaming you.”

And he exits the cafe, _finally,_ finally leaving the two of them alone, and Alexander turns his full attention on him. And then, suddenly, he is pressed up against him, hands roving in _places jesus christ_

“Alexander,” he pants, stepping back just a pace, ignoring the whine that causes, “we are in a public establishment.”

“Nobody’s watching,” is the response, and a glance around proves that to be true. The barista has vacated the counter, probably in an attempt to give them some measure of privacy, and there is no one else here and likely won’t be for another hour at least.

And so, for a moment, he is very, very tempted. Tempted to take Alexander right here and now, to have sex on the dirty cafe floor. But there are a multitude of reasons why that is a bad idea, the exhibitionism of it only one of them.

He really, really doesn’t want to explain to Liz that he got to have sex with her husband before she did. It would not be pretty.

So, as much as it pains him to do so, he pushes Alexander back and holds him at arm’s length by both of his shoulders, taking amusement from the red flush on his face and the dilation of his pupils. “But Alexander,” he says, “you're a married man.”

He watches the expressions flit across his face: annoyance, confusion, realization, and finally settling on guilt, which, oops. John hadn’t intended that. “I-” Alex says, stopping and then starting again. “I, yes, but that never stopped us… and I haven’t _found_ her, John, I don’t even know if she’s alive, and I don’t want to hurt her again, I really don’t, but I love you, but I can’t _do_ that to her again, but I, I just-”

And he watches in dismay as Alex completely breaks down into tears once again.

Not his intention. At all.

He drags him forward into a hug, which Alex melts into. “It’s alright,” he soothes him. “Sorry. That was a joke, kind of a bad one now that I’m thinking about it.” The whole Reynolds affair had completely slipped his mind, which, in retrospect, was a stupid thing to forget about, considering the effect it had on all parties involved. “Here, you want me to text her? I can text her right now, and this’ll all be cleared up. It’s fine, Alexander, it’s all fine, you’ll see, alright?”

Alex looks at him, eyes puffy and blotchy, confusion etched into his features. “Text her?” he asks. “You have her number? John, you’ve met Eliza?” He sounds more and more delighted with every word that comes out of his mouth, a complete one-eighty from only a few seconds ago. “Wait, are you two friends? Do you like each other? John, are you friends with my wife? Isn’t she the most perfect, amazing, beautiful, spectacular woman you’ve ever-”

He laughs. “Yeah, pretty much.” He steps back a pace, digs his phone out of his pocket. “Give me a second here. She’s probably still sleeping.” He doesn’t know what Elizabeth Schuyler's sleeping habits were like, but Liz Scott is not a morning person until she is on her second cup of coffee, which is usually around eight o’clock or so.

He pulls up his messaging.

* * *

 

_6:28 am: Liz_

_Liz_

_Liz_

_Liz_

_Liz_

_Liz_

_Liz_

_Liz wake up_

_Liz_

_Liz_

_6:32 am: wtf jonathon lawson why ru texting me_

_its to early for thias shit_

_6:33 am: that is not my n a m e_

_but youll never guess who i just ran into_

_6:36 am: so help me this better be good_

_6:37 am: it is your husband liz i have found him_

_he’s trying to read what im writing rn but hes so short he cant_

_its hilarious im crying_

_hes really fucking hot tho u have no idea_

_liz?_

_hey liz you there?_

_liz?_

_6:53 am: Alexander?_

_Alexander is there?_

_6:54 am: Yeah, Liz, he’s here._

_We’re at that coffee place u said was shit_

_6:56 am: I’ll be there in five minutes dont u dare move im coming_

* * *

 

“She’s coming,” he tells him, looking up from his phone. By now, Alex has given up on trying to read what he’s writing, and is sitting in a chair, kicking his legs like a five-year-old and drumming his fingers on the table. At his words, his eyes widen.

“She lives here?” he all but squeaks. “Here, as in, in this city? Which you… also live in?”

He nods. “Yeah. We both live in this city.” In the same apartment. And sleep in the same bed.

Now that he thinks about it, negotiating their entire relationship without Alex may not have been the best idea. Sure, it was the only option available to them at the time, but when they tell him about their relationship, they’ll need to be quick to tell him that they always wanted to find him, that they’re still in love with him as much as they are now in love with each other. Otherwise, he will assume that he is being left behind again, abandoned by the people he loves, because when it comes to situations like this, Alex always jumps to the wrong conclusions.

The first time he met him, John quickly realized one thing: Alex was so used to losing his loved ones that he’d long since stopped expecting anyone to stay. But that didn’t make it any less devastating when they left. And most of them did leave. John is no exception to that, but he is only one of a long list of people who left Alexander behind: his father, his mother, his cousin, his brother, and even Washington himself, in the end, just to name a few.

It won’t happen again. He’ll make sure of that.

“So, seriously, what’s the deal with you and Burr?” he asks, partly to pass the time until Liz gets here, partly because he actually wants to know, because last time he checked, Alexander wasn’t so quick to forgive those who he held a grudge against. And he should definitely hold a grudge against Burr, considering how that relationship ended. Hell, _John_ has a grudge against Burr, and he wasn’t even there.

Alex shrugs. “I told you, we made up,” he says. “We ended up working at the same law firm for a while, and we reconnected. Seriously, it’s all good now.”

“If you say so, but I didn’t think you would be so quick to forgive someone for the shit he-”

“Don’t say that like I didn’t pull some shit either,” Alex interrupts with a glare. “The shit-pulling was mutual. And as I keep reminding people, I _let_ him shoot me, so it’s not like it was entirely his fault. Besides,” he continues in a quieter tone, “I didn’t really have anybody else at that point. I… he was the first person I’d met, from the old days, you know? Honestly, I would have settled for Jefferson at that point.”

John winces. That… definitely says something about the frame of mind Alex was in.

Though, something about that little speech rings not-quite-right with him. He can’t put a finger on it, but he files it away for later consideration.

“That sucks,” he finally says, and Alex laughs.

“Yeah, you're telling me,” he replies. And he opens his mouth to say more, but at that moment, the door to the cafe opens, a brisk wind entering and winding around their ankles. They both instinctively turn to look, and there she is, standing in the doorway, looking like a goddess without even trying. Her eyes are wide and her cheeks are flushed with both the chill and the anticipation, and her hair is floating in loose, barely brushed strands around her face.

She has never looked more beautiful.

John grins and moves to take a step forward, but Alex beats him to the punch. He has stood, his eyes fixed on her, and he seems to barely be breathing. “Eliza,” he murmurs, eyes wide and full of wonder, and what may be more unshed tears.

Liz takes a step forward, and the door swings shut behind her. She has not looked at him yet, eyes only for Alexander, but John can’t find it in himself to be offended. “Alexander,” she greets, a wide smile spreading across her face, like the sun rising over the horizon. “You foolish man.”

Alex nods, but doesn’t speak. For a moment, a moment that seems to stretch into eternity, they just stare at each other, taking each other in. And then, they both rush forward at the same time, attaching themselves to each other in a flurry of limbs and not letting go. John can’t quite make out what they’re saying to each other, but it mostly seems to be a mantra of apologies on Alexander’s part, and murmured reassurances on Liz’s. And all the while, they hold each other, Liz rubbing circles into his back and Alex gripping the back of her shirt like he thinks she’ll disappear if he relaxes. John watches them, torn between happiness and an irrational jealousy that he is trying his best to ignore.

And then, Liz gives him a look over Alexander’s shoulder, beckons him over, and he smiles, because a hug with two people is good, but a hug with three people is even better. For a while, they stay like that, everyone’s arms around everyone else, and Alex’s whispered _I’m sorry_ s turn into whispered _I love you_ s.

John and Liz exchange glances over the top of his head. Now is probably as good a time as any, he figures, and Liz seems to have the same idea.

“Not to break up the moment,” she says wryly, “but which one of us are you talking to?”

And that has him jerking in surprise, almost pulling away from them. He looks back and forth between them desperately, and John can see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out how best to respond.

It’s pretty hilarious, but John decides to put him out of his misery. “Chill, Alex,” he says, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Alex bites his lip. “But I-” he tries, breaking himself off.

John looks to Liz, and she takes control from here. “That’s not a trick question, sweetheart,” she tells him, and she takes his hand, staring him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered. “Alex, John and I are in a relationship. We would be very, very pleased if you would join us.”

He watches Alex carefully from there, and so he sees the exact moment the words sink in. His eyes go wide, and he wheels around to look at him, his expression demanding the truth, as if Liz’s word isn’t enough, as if he thinks this must be too good to be true. And John nods, smiling, and Alex smiles right back.

“You really mean that,” he says, his eyes darting back and forth between them. “You actually mean that? You’re… and we can… we…”

And at that, he breaks down again, but that’s alright, because now he has John and Liz to help him pick up the pieces, to be there for whatever happens after.

And John would be lying if he said he didn’t shed a few tears himself.

**Author's Note:**

> So, today I decided to go through and make an actual outline of what’s going to happen in this series. So now, armed with a vague plan, I can tell you with all certainty some things that are going to happen. Namely, I have decided, yes, the musical exists. Too good of a chance to pass up. It’ll get addressed eventually. Also, I now know who GWash’s VP is going to be. But I’m not telling you yet. :) 
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://angelsanddemonsandducks.tumblr.com/), if you’d like!
> 
> Next up: For real, this time, Hercules Mulligan! Also, America’s favorite fighting Frenchman! And Peggy! All in the same place at the same time. The world will never be the same.


End file.
